Like a Little Death
Shucking off gender is an exquisite relief.
Not necessarily sex. But that too.
Chucking away everything that hindered or pandered.
Lighting out towards nothing but an ice cream in the evening.
Four White Coffee Cups and Saucers
I dreamt I woke up but of course I thought I was really awake.
A tall man was setting up four coffee cups on my bedside table.
I asked him what he was doing without a word and he replied:
"I am setting out the coffee cups. One for each of your husbands."
The chink of the cups in their saucers had woken me up.
Although I thought I was awake I was asleep.
Difficult Night with my Dead Father – and Limoncello
His glass is turned down.
The teapot spout has a chip in it.
I don't know what “behind the 8 ball” means.
all the stresses are every which way
difficile ma possible
difficule mais possible
oh to be at home in my own language
Jennifer Compton was born in New Zealand in 1949 and usually lives in
Wingello on the Southern Highlands of NSW but is in Rome until August in
residence at the Whiting Library. She is a poet and a playwright. The Big
Picture, her most recent stage play, was premiered in Sydney and
subsequently produced at Circa Theatre in Wellington in 1999. Her most
recent book of poetry. Parker & Quink, was published by Ginninderra Press in